


There's Something I've Been Meaning To Say...

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Love Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Stiles was drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning of Scott and Kira's wedding day, Stiles is hungover and doesn't remember the night before at their rehearsal dinner. </p><p>Derek, though, was not drunk, and remembers every detail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Something I've Been Meaning To Say...

Derek hears him before he sees him, and schools his features to look as casual as possible, turning as Stiles stumbles into the kitchen, clad only in boxers - _Derek’s boxers_ \- with his hair sticking up in a crazy nest, his eyes bloodshot. 

Stiles grimaces at the harsh kitchen lights, mumbling “where am i?” as he leans against the wall just inside the kitchen. 

Derek sighs, takes both coffee cups he’d just poured and walks over to Stiles, holding one out. 

Stiles blinks wildly, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as the smell wakes him up partially. 

“Fuck man, I feel like a someone took a frying pan to my head." 

"Then drink,” Derek said, holding the coffee cup out further toward Stiles, who jumps at Derek’s voice, gasping as he opens his eyes enough to really see. 

“Derek?" 

Derek raises an eyebrow, and Stiles sighs, looks down at the coffee that Derek is still holding out. 

"Oh thank fuck.” Stiles takes the cup and immediately takes a sip, whimpering out a sigh as the liquid runs down his throat. “You’re a fucking godsend, man.”

Derek just smirks and turns around, taking a sip of his own coffee and going back to where he’d been making breakfast. 

Derek hears Stiles shuffle around behind him before he hears the tell tale squeak of the dining room chair being sat down on. 

“What happened last night?” Stiles asked through a yawn, and Derek internally sighed as he outwardly chuckled. 

“What do you think happened?” Derek said, looking over his shoulder at Stiles, whose face was scrunched up in confusion as he seemed to try and remember.

“Um…I got really, really drunk?” Stiles ventured, looking over at Derek sheepishly.  
“Mhmm,” Derek confirmed, smiling as he turned back to the pancakes he was making. Stiles loved pancakes. 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me I made a complete fool of myself at Scott and Kira’s rehearsal dinner,” Stiles whined, and Derek looked over to see him rubbing his temple as he winced. 

“Nah,” Derek said as he flipped the pancakes one more time. “You just told Kira that you loved her fiancé and that if you didn’t already see him like a brother that you’d totally be fighting her for him.”

"Oh fuck,” Stiles moaned, and Derek let himself laugh as he put the pancakes on a plate for him, and then on a plate for Stiles before he went back to the bacon he was cooking. “I didn’t. Tell me I didn’t!" 

"That wasn’t even the worst of it." 

"Oh god, what did I do?” Stiles elongated the word “do” in his complete and utter despair.

“Well,” Derek said, and moved over to the fridge to get the orange juice out. He thought he’d stick with the other safe choice for now. “You did dance on the table, even though there was no music playing. And you begged me to join you. In dancing to nothing." 

Stiles wailed the sound of a man dying, and Derek looked over in time to see him clunk his head down onto the table. “I’m never drinking ever again.”

"Like you’ll stick to that promise,” Derek snorted, turning to head over to the table and set their orange juice down, then going to get their plates of food. 

“You made me breakfast?” Stiles wondered aloud as Derek set his plate in front of him. “With pancakes?” Stiles squeaked, looking up at Derek, shocked. 

Derek shrugged. “Figured you’d have an empty stomach and would be starving.”

“I am starving,” Stiles said as Derek came back with syrup and forks. “Thank you, Derek.”

Derek shrugged, sitting down across from Stiles and trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“Thank god the wedding isn’t until this evening,” Stiles said as he poured a generous amount of syrup onto his pancakes. Derek had put butter on top of them as well, as Stiles loved that, and Stiles looked only too happy to dig in. 

“Yeah, you’ll almost be completely sober by then,” Derek snarked, and Stiles snorted.

“Ha ha." 

Derek shrugged, reaching for the syrup. 

"What else did I do?” Stiles asked, and Derek couldn’t help but look up into his eyes, felt himself blushing as he opened his mouth and tried to speak. “I didn’t say…something to you, did I?” And Stiles suddenly looked anxious, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. 

Derek swallowed his first bite of pancake, looking at Stiles carefully. “Like what?”

“Like…” Stiles trailed off, didn’t look away from Derek as silence descended upon them, and they were left staring at each other, and Derek couldn’t stop his heart from speeding up, couldn’t stop the lump forming his throat. “Never mind,” Stiles shrugged, finally looking away and taking a big bite of bacon. 

“You, um…” Derek coughed, looking down at his own pancakes. “You might have said…something…to me." 

"You know.”

Derek looked up, and Stiles’ face was scrunched up, and he was biting his lip. 

“I-”

“What did I say?” Stiles demanded, and his loud tone of voice made himself flinch. 

Derek sighed, looking down again as he remembered the night before. 

-

_Stiles plopped down next to Derek as others stood around and chatted, the room filled with the thrum of it._

_“Derek! Derek, buddy, dude, guy man,” Stiles slurred, slinging an arm around Derek who turned to look at Stiles, eyebrow raised._

_“I just gotta say, that look doesn’t work on me anymore, dude,” Stiles said, leaning forward unintentionally, and Derek had to lean away as he got a whiff of Stiles’ breath. He was so very drunk._

_“You’re drunk,” Derek said._

_“Very astute, Derek,” Stiles grinned, flinging his other arm around Derek, leaning into him heavily. Derek just sighed and took most of his weight. “You get an A+ for stating the obvious,” Stiles giggled and Derek rolled his eyes, but looked away when he couldn’t keep the fond smile off his face._

_“But you know what’s not obvious!” Stiles practically shouted, making Derek jump slightly, turning to look at Stiles with wide eyes. He was holding up one of his fingers now, mouth hanging open. “Well, what’s not obvious, is…oh look, a penny!"_

_And then Stiles flung himself himself off his chair and off Derek to fall to the floor on his hands and knees, reaching for a penny under the table, putting his ass right in Derek’s line of vision._

_"Stiles!” Derek hissed, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, because Stiles was practically presenting his ass to Derek, and Derek scooted back, shifting his chair and looking away from Stiles and his…assets._

_“Got it!” Stiles said happily, coming up with a shiny penny between his thumb and pointer finger. “Now I can make a wish!”_

_“Good for you.” Derek cleared his throat._

_“Now, what was I saying?” Stiles said as he sat back down next to Derek, and he even scooted back to get his chair to line up with Derek’s. “Oh, right!” Stiles shouted, pocketing the penny and then turning to Derek, putting his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “I gotta say…there’s just something I’ve been meaning to say…to you,” Stiles hiccuped, leaning in close to Derek’s face, and Derek practically went cross eyed in order to be able to see Stiles properly._

_“Yeah?” Derek said, and cursed himself for sounding so breathless._

_“Derek,” Stiles paused, and seemed to be doing it so he could hiccup again and for dramatic effect. “Derek Hale, I love you."_

_"What?”_

_“I’m like…so fucking in love with you,” Stiles said, leaning forward and just kind of…plopping his forehead against Derek’s. “Like, Scott doesn’t even compare and he’s probably the only person I love most in this world besides my dad. Or, did love most. Until you,” Stiles swallowed, and Derek is freaking out, panicking, but he can’t move, can barely even breathe. “You gotta know that it’s always been you. Always been fucking you. Through all those girlfriends and boyfriends, the flings, none of them compared to you.” And here Stiles puts his hands on Derek’s neck, plays with the hairs at his nape, and Derek lets out a shaky breath, shivers at the feel of Stiles’ skin against his. “It’s always gonna be you,” Stiles breathed, and he leans forward a fraction of an inch, his lips just brushing Derek’s and Derek doesn’t move away, because he fucking can’t, doesn’t fucking want to and -_

_Stiles lets out another hiccup, and then his head is falling onto Derek’s shoulder, and Derek hears Stiles’ breath even out, and he’s asleep._

_Derek sits stock still, frozen in place for god knows how long before he manages to move, slightly in a daze as he lifts Stiles up enough to stand, and then bend down to pick him up into his arms, bridal style._

_Derek tells Scott and Kira that he’s going to take Stiles home, and then decides on the road that he’ll take Stiles back to his place, because he doesn’t think Stiles should be alone right now._

_And Stiles is snoring with his face smushed against the window, mouth hanging open unattractively._

_And he should look ridiculous, and he does. But more than anything, Derek thinks he just looks…cute._

-

Stiles is blushing, hiding his face behind his hands, and Derek clears his throat. “Did you…did you mean it?” 

Stiles peaks behind his fingers at Derek, says, “depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not you feel the same way.”

Derek blushes himself, taking a bite of pancake to stall. Because Derek obviously wasn’t very good with words and he didn’t know quite what to say. 

“Okay, so, yeah. Totally didn’t mean it. At all,” Stiles said awkwardly, taking a sip of his coffee, and then when Derek continued to remain silent, he moved to his orange juice and practically drained it. 

“I’m-” Derek started, stopped, searching for the words. Instead, “I’m not very good with with words,” came out.

“No shit,” Stiles snorted, although he didn’t look amused as he stuffed his face with pancake, and then more bacon to fill the awkward silence.

“I wanted, I mean I want to, to say that I…” Derek cleared his throat, looked Stiles in the eye. “Feel the same way, too. About…you." 

Stiles’ eyes widened, and he was still chewing so that he looked like a squirrel, his cheeks stuffed with food. 

"I don’t think I can say that I…say the words yet. But I do…I do,” Derek said, hoping Stiles understood. He’d write down if had to. He could write it down, if all else failed. 

Stiles eventually swallowed, sipping at his coffee again before he nodded. “You love me, too?” Stiles said, sounding hopeful.

And Derek nodded, sighing in relief. He did. He was completely head over heels in love with Stiles. He’d just been too scared to say so before. And he couldn’t say it because he needed time to get there. If this was what he was hoping it was, and would be the start of a relationship between them, with them as a couple, as boyfriend and boyfriend, then he could build to it. Could get to that place to be able to say it to Stiles, who deserved to hear it every second of every day.

Which is why Derek cursed his shortcomings and his emotionally stunted mind. But he just wasn’t there yet, and he hated that. 

But he knew he would be, one day. 

And Stiles was grinning wide, and Derek could smell the happiness radiating off of him, so powerful and it blocked out any other smell, and Derek found himself smiling back.

“Okay, I totally meant it. Every word. I love you. I am in love with you. I have been for…a very long time. I just hate that it took me getting plastered to admit it to you." 

Derek shrugged, feeling warm and content, happy. “It’s okay.” 

"God, I fucking love you,” Stiles laughed, as if he was laughing away the weight that had been on his shoulders for the past who knows how long. And it was joyful, happy, relieved. 

Derek loved Stiles’ laugh. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Stiles asked, scraping his chair back to stand, and Derek just remembered that Stiles was wearing nothing but his boxers - that Derek had given him last night before pointing him toward his bathroom to change into them (he’d heard what a struggle that had been through the bathroom door and had tried to keep his laughter quiet) - and that his naked chest was on display.

“Yeah, yeah, you definitely can,” Derek said, and stood up as well, going around to meet Stiles in the middle, and finally, finally, after all this time, through Stiles being in high school, to him in college, to two years out of college, they were kissing.

And it was amazing. Starting out fast and passionate, hands roaming, finding anywhere they could reach, to slow but no less passionate, hands finding their places on Stiles’ lower back and around Derek’s shoulders, into his hair. 

Derek never wanted to let Stiles go.

And he never did.


End file.
